Ignis Fatuus
by Kreacher's Peepers
Summary: Or 'Do Dreams Really Come True' What if Andy had to get those Hermés scarves instead of Emily?


**Ignis Fatuus**

I'm new to this universe, so please bear with me.

What if Andy had to get those Hermés scarves instead of Emily?

**A/N:** For my dearest friend.

-0-

"Where are those Hermés scarves? I wanted them yesterday. Emily, I need you to fetch them."

Andy was taken by surprise by Miranda's sudden appearance at the doorway; she hadn't heard her approaching, and her guard had been down. Although it had probably looked like she was working, in reality she was merely staring through her computer screen, lost in another daydream. They were getting worse, these fantasies of hers. Sneaking up unannounced, claiming her for minutes on end. They had been a virtually constant companion ever since Miranda had told her she would be going to Paris, not Emily. She had chosen her, _Andy_, not the P.A. who had been anticipating and working on this project for the past twelve months. 'I need my best possible team with me' – kept running through her head like a mantra since last night.

Emily looked across at Andy, horrified. "I can't!" she mouthed.

Andy looked up at Miranda who was running off a list of other jobs she expected to be done, none of them directed towards her though. Her mind wandered, Miranda's icy composure washing over her and lulling her back into her earlier imaginings. Like a movie on pause in her mind, it waited for her to close her eyes before pressing play and starting up again, just where it had left off.

_Miranda was approaching her, a gleam in her eye as she pushed Andy against the wall of the outer office and grabbed a handful of her shirt. Tugging at it, the material ripped, exposing the top of her chest. Miranda impatiently threw down what was left of it on the floor behind her, her mouth at the same time descending on Andy's now bare collar bone and devouring it. Andy arched up into the touch, while her fingers fumbled with the hooks of her own bra, trying desperately to release it. Succeeding at last, Miranda growled when she saw Andy's breasts were now proudly on display. Her lips left a wet trail from her assistant's shoulder, blazing down to a taut nipple, while a hand wandered up to pinch the neglected one. Her hot mouth was almost there, about to enclose around her pebbling areola, when –_

"That's all."

Panicked, Emily held her head in her hands, rocking a little in her chair. Andy glanced over to her, but quickly turned her gaze back to the retreating view of Miranda. She watched the swing of the woman's hips with a pounding heart and was instantly transported back into her previous fantasy, except this time she followed the editor, the closed office door no longer a barrier between them.

_She rushed through just as it was closing and slammed it shut behind her. Miranda turned back in amazement, wondering who would dare encroach on her territory. _

"_What is the meaning of this?" _

_Andy didn't say anything, just stalked closer to her frozen prey. A confidence she never knew she had was coursing through her veins, there was no turning back this time._

"_Andr__é__a?" Miranda's confusion was evident through the arch of a questioning eyebrow, but there was also a hint of trepidation betraying her. She stood tall for a moment, appraising her assistant before turning her back on her and walking to her desk. "I said, _**that is all**_ –" she threw over her shoulder._

"_Not quite, it isn't," Andy simpered, grabbing the woman's wrist and spinning her around in one swift movement. _

_Unprepared for the physical attack, Miranda crashed straight into her, her arms wrapping themselves around Andy's waist as they flung out instinctually to save herself. They stood there, faces millimetres apart and their chests heaving as they stared at one another. _

"_What the hell do you think you are doing?" It came as an angry whisper, warm against her cheek, but Andy could see arousal flooding Miranda's eyes; she had so far made no attempt to pull away._

_Andy reached up between them to draw a finger over Miranda's lips but she ignored the question. Instead, the back of her hand brushed lightly over her chin and traced down her neck until it reached the place where they were still joined._

"_Andr__é__a?" she asked again, her normally soft voice sounding even more enticing as a breathy gasp, especially since it was saying her name._

_Andy smirked as she took a half-step back, finding a frustrated-looking Miranda still standing there with half-lidded eyes, inhaling deeply through her nose. She hopped onto her boss's desk, crossing one ridiculously long leg over the other and hitching up her skirt a little further than was strictly necessary. Leaning back on her arms, she lifted her chin up, challenging Miranda to come closer._

_The editor was obviously up to the challenge. A second later she had followed Andy across the floor, and after another moment's pause she swooped down and kissed her hard. Immediately capitulating, Andy moaned into Miranda's mouth, her hands flying up to tug on the still flawlessly coiffed silvery hair in an effort to draw her closer still. Their tongues did battle, neither willing to be the first to break away._

_When they did eventually separate for air, Miranda wasted no time in parting Andy's legs, standing between them and dragging her hips nearer to the edge of the desk. She kissed her again, her hands cupping the younger woman's face as passion flared between them. No time for teasing touches, Miranda's fingers dropped to Andy's thighs, skimming across them under her skirt until she found the damp lace of her underwear._

_Andy broke the kiss, her eyes wide in longing as she still clung to Miranda's neck. "Please," she moaned and saw her raise that same damn eyebrow at her, a devilish expression upon her face. With no other warning, she felt two fingers penetrate deep inside her, plunging in and out at a frantic pace._

"_Oh God, MIRANDA!"_

"Oh,GOD!"

Andy's head shot up at Emily's exclamation, a traitorous blush staining her cheeks as she felt a distinct throbbing between her thighs. She pressed them tight together, attempting to relieve the ache as she listened to her distressed colleague's ramblings. Although it was fair to say she wasn't paying full attention; the image of Miranda leaning over her still looming large in her mind. This had to stop; she was almost crying from frustration, let alone the idea that she actually let herself think such dangerous thoughts.

"I can't go now," she was groaning, "I've got so much to deal with before I leave! I have to get the details of the Calvin Klein shoot typed up before the next edition meeting and then call Valentino, oh and I still haven't picked up the dry cleaning for the Paris trip… You have to help me!"

Andy had her own large pile of work to do before the trip, not to mention actually telling Emily that she wouldn't be going. "Emily, I, I,"

She made the mistake of meeting the red-head's desperate eyes and she faltered. How the hell was she going to tell her, it would surely crush her. She tried another tack. "We can't leave the desk unmanned, one of us will have to stay and I have my own stuff to do…"

"Oh, but Andy I can email Versace for you and type up the notes from here after I do my own. Oh please, please, please?"

Reluctantly, Andy sighed and could feel herself nodding in agreement. She felt guilty enough about Paris as it was, and didn't want to upset her further. "Fine, I'll get the scarves."

"Brilliant! I, uh, well, I, ahem, thank you," Emily finished weakly, and Andy had the impression that she hated conveying such gratitude to anyone, least of all her.

"But Emily, there's something I really have to –"

Miranda called through, interrupting the awkward moment. "Where are those scarves? I thought I made it abundantly clear they were needed yesterday, not sometime next week."

Emily looked pleadingly at Andy.

"All right, all right, I'm going…"

-0-

Andy was hurrying back to the office after battling her way through the busy streets to Hermés when she heard her cell ringing. Fumbling with the many bags, she managed to juggle them into one hand, fishing out her phone with the other.

"Andy, where in God's earth are you? Miranda needs the new Chanel couture colours for Spring/Summer and Philippe has said Runway will have the first sneak preview if we can get them before one o'clock. I would go when you get back, but Serena's here to choose outfits for the Paris trip with me and –"

"Um, Emily, I, there's something I need to tell you, something, well something about Paris…"

" – Of course you had better go to Calvin Klein while you're out too, maybe go there first, but just make sure you're back here in the next twenty minutes, Miranda's already noticed you've gone and is about to beat someone with a red hot poker!"

Andy took a deep breath and chewed on her lip, waiting for Emily to stop talking. "I'll be back, I promise, but Emily you should know that, well… _Miranda's-asked-me-to-go-to-Paris-with-her-not-you_,"

"What was that? Speak up; all I can hear is traffic. It's not another Miranda problem is it?"

"No I," Andy got pushed about by the crowd of shoppers as she cut across the sidewalk, trying to find a quieter place to talk. Going against the tide, she found herself stepping into the street and pulling the numerous bags through the throng of people behind her. "About Paris, Emily I'm so so sorry, but I –"

Andy didn't even see the taxi before it hit her.


End file.
